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ON SALE NOW! Moveable Feast Live
In the cornfields speckled poppies glow in a twilight, moving shadows,
From the High Wood the reaper walks, a harvest to be gathered,
The skylark’s solo fateful cry, the hares alert now scattered,
The pheasant raised by beating drums in a field prepared for battle.
They thread their way cross valley floors through shell holes and the fallen, impending threats their sabres drawn, a prayer by Crucifix Corner.
(a start, not even trotting yet, still adjusting the line)